


unbalanced

by onlyeverthus



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyeverthus/pseuds/onlyeverthus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prom night again, and Will has a confession to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unbalanced

She can feel his eyes on them from across the room and she turns her head, catching his gaze and flashing him a smile. He smiles back, though there's a slight wistfulness to the curve of his lips, and she sighs as she turns back to Blaine.

"What's wrong?" he asks, ducking his head to see her face.

"I just wish he could be over here with us," she murmurs, just loud enough for him to hear.

He glances at Will over the top of her head, giving him the briefest nod before turning his attention back to Quinn.

"I know," he replies, lightly rubbing her back. "So do I."

She sighs again and he leans forward to press a kiss to her temple before standing and pulling her to her feet, leading her out onto the dance floor.

It's the senior prom, a full year after the disastrous events of the junior prom and Quinn's breakdown, and though Blaine and Quinn are nominated for those damn plastic crowns, neither of them is concerned about winning. They haven't campaigned for votes and almost weren't going to come at all, but something about it being the last major event before graduation made them decide to bite the bullet.

When Principal Figgins calls the nominees to the stage, Quinn's distracted, glancing at Will as she lines up with the other girls and thinking about maybe seeing if Blaine wants to leave early and head over to Will's once they're done with all of this.

She hears Figgins say Blaine's name and her attention snaps forward. Blaine smiles a little ruefully and steps forward, bending a little so Figgins can place the crown on his head. He accepts the little scepter and waves it at the clapping students, catching Quinn's eye and giving a minute shake of his head.

She grins and her eyes return to Figgins as he steps back to the microphone. He opens the envelope and she suddenly feels that familiar anticipation, the hard pounding of her heart in her chest. When he announces her name she stands still a moment, almost too stunned to move, and then the girl beside her gives her a small push.

She steps forward, her eyes locked with Blaine's, and he smiles encouragingly at her as Figgins places the crown on her head.

Blaine takes her hand when she moves to stand beside him and she squeezes his fingers.

"You okay?" he asks softly, leaning close so she can hear him over the applause and cheers of the students.

"Yeah," she breathes, gripping his hand again before smiling up at him.

"We can smash them later," he murmurs and she laughs.

They move off the stage for their dance and then her eyes suddenly scan the audience, seeking Will. She passes over smiling faces until she finally finds him, and is startled by his expression.

His brow is heavy, mouth unsmiling, and his arms are crossed tightly over his chest. He almost looks angry and her smile falters as Blaine tugs her to him.

She can't stop watching Will as she and Blaine sway together and Blaine frowns slightly.

"What's wrong?" he whispers.

She shakes her head, finally tearing her gaze from Will as she looks up at Blaine.

"In a minute," she mutters in reply, not wanting anyone to notice where their attention rests.

When the song ends, her gaze flicks back to Will and he stares at them a moment longer before turning and striding quickly for the doors.

"I'm gonna go talk to him," she says when she and Blaine make it back to their table.

"You want me to come with you?" he asks, his brow creasing a little.

She shakes her head. "I'll be back soon."

He nods and she squeezes his fingers before turning and making her way through the crowd.

She emerges into the quiet, dimly lit hallway, and sees that it's empty. She stands a moment, thinking about where he might have gone, and then starts down the corridor, her heels clicking on the linoleum.

She can hear the gentle swishing of her dress around her knees as she walks and finds it almost a little spooky how dark and silent the hallways are. It's weird to be roaming the school this late at night.

She reaches Will's office after a few minutes and notices the door cracked very slightly. She hesitates a moment and then eases it open, stepping inside and pushing the door shut behind her.

The lamp on his desk is on, illuminating the room in a soft glow that catches the tiny rhinestones fixed to the skirt of her dress, and they sparkle as she takes a tentative step forward.

His office isn't large, but there's a small area set back from the main room with a window that overlooks the parking lot, and this is where he is, standing in front of the low bookshelf set under the window.

He doesn't look at her, even though she's certain he knows she's there by now, and she takes another step.

"What's wrong?" she asks finally.

It's another minute before he looks up at her and he stares at her a moment, his frown deepening.

Confusion spreads within her and she opens her mouth to speak again when he steps towards her suddenly and reaches up to snatch the crown from her head.

She'd forgotten she was wearing it and winces when it snags on a few strands of hair.

She reaches up to massage her scalp and scowls at him. "What is your problem?"

"Prom queen, Quinn?" he says, holding the crown aloft a moment before flinging it to the floor. It bounces off the carpet and hits the desk with a vaguely metallic ring.

She stares at him, nonplussed, and he turns away, hands firm on his hips.

She doesn't know what to say, doesn't know why he's so upset, and she just stares at him, waiting for him to say or do something.

"I thought you were past all that prom queen, popularity bullshit," he snarls finally, whirling on her.

Her expression turns incredulous. "I am. I didn't ask to be nominated –"

"I didn't notice you withdrawing your name, though."

"I didn't see the point!" she replies, throwing her arms out at her sides. "If they wanted to nominate me, and vote for me, then why not? I didn't expect to win. Blaine and I almost didn't even come tonight."

Will doesn't respond, though his features are still dark and his eyes glitter in the lamp light.

"That's not what this is about," Quinn says quietly. "Tell me why you're upset."

He runs a hand through his hair and stares at her, mouth open like he's going to speak, but nothing comes out.

"Tell me," she says again. "The real reason."

He sighs and lowers his gaze to the floor. "I just – when Figgins called your name and I saw you and Blaine –" He shakes his head and then looks back up at her. "I wished I was there with you too. Not instead of Blaine, _in addition_ to. I –"

He's cut off by a quiet knock at the door and Quinn turns sharply, her mouth falling open in a surprised gasp.

Will strides past her to pull it open just enough to see who it is, then swings it open all the way, and Quinn breathes a relived sigh when she sees Blaine on the other side.

"Hey," he murmurs, "I was just – you've been gone for a while, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Why don't you come in," Will says, just as Quinn says, "Could you give us a minute?"

They look at each other and Blaine looks back and forth between them for a moment, taking in Will's exasperated look and the fiery look in Quinn's eyes, before he holds up his hands.

"I think this something you guys need to handle," he says quietly. "Whatever happens, I'm here for you both. Come find me when you're ready to go," he adds to Quinn before turning to head back down the hall.

Will watches him for a minute before carefully pushing the door closed. He stands, eyes on the floor, until Quinn speaks.

"You what?" she asks, as if they hadn't been interrupted.

Will sighs and rubs his forehead with his fingers. "I wish sometimes that I could be with you like he is."

"But you are –"

"No, Quinn, I'm not." He stares at her, eyebrows raised slightly. "Yes, I get to spend time with you, but it's all in secret. I can't walk down the sidewalk with you and hold your hand, or go back into that gymnasium and dance with you. I can't go to the movies with you, or – or to Breadstix, or just sit with you in the park without it being some huge scandal."

"You don't think I want that too?" she asks, staring at him in disbelief.

"Sometimes I don't know –"

"What the hell do you want me to do, Will?" she cries, her frustration bubbling over. "I want that just as much as you do, but we live in _Lima fucking Ohio_. You and I can't do that stuff here, and I hate it, but that's just the way it is."

She blinks and looks away, and he can see her eyes shining when they catch the light.

"There is nothing I want more," she says softly, still not looking at him, "than to be able to do those things with you. I want to hold your hand. I want to dance with you. I want to have dinner with you." She looks up at him and he can see the tears brimming on her lower lashes, threatening to spill over at any second. "I want to be able to not care about what people think when they see us together, but it's not just that. You could get fired for this, Will, or maybe even arrested. I'm trying to _protect_ you."

He doesn't reply and she shakes her head.

"Do you want to end this? Is that what this is?"

The look of hurt that flashes over her face is too much for him to bear and he takes a step towards her, shaking his head.

"No," he says emphatically. "No. I don't want this to end. I just – I wish things could be different."

Her shoulders slump and she leans against the desk, crossing her arms over her chest. Her hair falls around her face as she looks down at the floor, and he stares at her a moment.

He's always thought she was beautiful; it was that physical attraction that led to their first encounter right here in this office. He watched her slow dissolution last year and hated that he couldn't do more to help her, that she wouldn't _let_ him do more to help her. It was Blaine who helped her, and he couldn't hate either of them for that; she got what she needed and that was all he ever wanted.

Her newfound confidence in herself has made her even more attractive, and all of the time he's spent with her outside of random liaisons in his office has brought them closer. As he looks at her, a thought he's been trying to repress lately explodes suddenly in the forefront of his mind.

He turns suddenly, startling her as he moves across the office, and she looks up.

"You should – you should go," he murmurs, running a hand down his cheek.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"Nothing," he replies, a little too quickly.

"Will," she says softly, and he turns to look at her.

Everything about her is so perfect, from the two thin braids on either side of her head, held back by a yellow ribbon that matches her dress exactly, to the length of leg between the hem of her dress and the top of her silver shoes, and his stomach twists. The admission is on the tip of his tongue, urging him to give it voice, but he doesn't know if she's ready for that. He doesn't know if _he's_ ready for that.

"Will," she says again, her voice softer, and he thinks she saw something in his face because her brow is creased, and her teeth press gently into her lower lip.

"I –" he starts, and then stops again.

Her tears are back, sparkling in the light, and as he watches one spills over, rolling down her cheek.

"Don't say it unless you mean it," she whispers, shaking her head and causing more tears to fall. "Don't you dare."

"Quinn, I –" He falters again and takes a few steps towards her, noticing the way her arms tighten over her chest. He exhales loudly and shakes his head. "Shit." He takes another few steps until he's right in front of her and she lifts her gaze to his face, her expression wary but also somewhat hopeful.

He takes a breath and then just says it: "I love you."

A quiet sob escapes her lips as she lowers her head again and he raises his hand to her neck, fingers disappearing into her hair as he dips his head to see her face.

"Quinn," he murmurs, concerned, and she shakes her head.

"I can't – I can't say it," she stammers, her hands rising to his arms, fingers clutching his shirt. "I want to, but I just –"

"It's okay," he says quietly. "Hey. Look at me." He brings his hands to her face, carefully tilting her head up, and brushes his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away the tears that linger. "It's okay."

Her hands slide to his shoulders, clutching his shirt again, and her eyebrows knit together as she looks at him.

"I just – I don't want you to feel that I don't – that you're not –"

"Shh," he murmurs, thumbs still caressing her skin. "I know. I didn't want to say it because I didn't know if you were ready –"

"I'm glad you did," she interrupts softly. "I am." She bites her lip. "Is 'thank you' enough for now?"

He nods, a smile curving his lips. "It's enough."

She smiles, finally, and he lowers his mouth to hers, his fingers sliding gently into her hair, taking care to not snag her braids. Her lips are salty from her tears and it makes him pull back, wondering if they should stop here, stand back and breathe a moment, but then her hand slides to the back of his neck and she pulls him down again.

She's so insistent, pushing her tongue into his mouth as her fingers tug on his tie, and he once again wonders if they should stop, but he doesn't really want to. Something about finally saying those words to her makes him want her more than he ever has and he presses against her, trapping her between him and the desk.

He lifts her in one fluid movement, setting her on the edge of the desk and stepping closer when her legs spread, his lips crashing against hers once more.

His hand drops to her knee and moves up, drifting under the flowing yellow skirt to caress her skin and when his fingers slip to the inside of her thigh, her mouth falls open, breaking the kiss. Her breath is hot on his mouth as his fingers travel higher and she squirms when he presses against her through the wet material of her panties, her hips rocking forward just slightly.

She sighs when he pulls his fingers away and then gasps when he grips her hips in both hands and yanks her right to the edge of the desk.

A ghost of a grin crosses her face and he kisses her again, his fingers hooking over the sides of her panties. She stands just long enough for him to slip them from her hips and then settles on the desk once again, flipping her skirt out from under her as she does.

He grins irresistibly, thinking this is one mess that definitely won't be left to the cleaning crew, and kneels to ease her panties over her shoes.

She smiles when he straightens, pulling him to her for another kiss before her hands drop to his pants. She pulls his belt apart with a rattle and then her slender fingers move to the fastenings of his trousers, unbuttoning and unzipping with practiced ease.

They fall to his ankles along with his boxers, and he steps closer, pushing her skirt to her hips. His hands slide back to her knees and he lifts her legs against his sides as she slips one arm around his neck, bracing her other hand on the desk.

He pushes slowly into her, savoring the way her mouth falls open and how good it always feels inside of her.

She sighs when he's in completely and her arm tightens around his neck as she shifts her position slightly, allowing him to slip just a little bit deeper as her legs tighten around him.

He leans forward to kiss her, removing one hand from her leg to brace it beside hers on the desk, and begins to move.

Her head tips back, her mouth falling open, and his lips travel to her neck. He loves the feel of her breath on his ear when her head comes forward again, hot bursts of air laced with the occasional quiet whimper or gasp. Each one feels like a secret whispered for him only.

There are things he never thought he'd want, or need, or have; she is all of these. He certainly never thought he'd fall in love with her, but he feels sometimes as though his heart may burst at the mere sight of her, and he never wants the time he spends with her to end.

He leans forward a bit more, pushing her back a little and lifting her leg higher against his side, angling his hips and thrusting deeper into her. Her brow creases, her fingers tightening on both the edge of the desk and the collar of his shirt, and she gasps his name, her hips rolling to match his movements.

He pulls her up and kisses her, letting go of her leg to bring his hand to her neck. She keeps her leg high against his side, her heel digging into his lower back, and his hand moves from her neck to follow the curve of her shoulder. The strap of her dress slips down and his mouth moves to her shoulder, trailing kisses from the outside in until he reaches her collar bone. He flicks his tongue over the ridge of it and she sighs softly, her lips brushing his ear in the barest of kisses.

His hand drops down between them and he presses his thumb against her clit. She shudders, her fingers drifting from his collar to his hair and tugging as he rubs in circles, keeping up the rhythm of his hips.

It's not long before she's tightening around him and she leans forward, pressing her face against his shoulder. It's when he feels her teeth bite down and hears the low whimpers that escape her throat, almost like sobs, that he realizes that for the first time she's having to keep herself from being loud.

It sends him right over the edge with her and he sags against her with a groan, both hands now braced on the desk on either side of her hips in an effort to keep from pushing her down.

They're quiet a moment, waiting to come down, and after a few minutes he presses a soft kiss to her neck before straightening. Her eyes are bright in the lamp light, her skin flushed, and he smiles, reaching up to sweep his thumb over her bottom lip before he kisses her.

Her arms circle his neck and he rests his forehead against hers when the kiss breaks, sliding his arms around her waist, and this is what he loves the most. Not the sex, but the closeness, holding her in his arms and just being with her.

It's another few minutes before he steps back reluctantly to let her slide off the desk. Her feet hit the floor and there's a crunching sound. She jumps, stumbling to the side as she yanks her foot up, and he catches her before gravity can pull her all the way down.

Once she's steady again, they both look down and a short laugh escapes her lips as he kneels to pick up the broken remnants of her crown.

He holds the pieces in his hands as he straightens and then lifts his gaze to her face, his expression slightly guilty, even though she's the one who stepped on it.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, and it's not just for the crown but for everything; for getting angry and being jealous, for doubting her and expecting more of her than she's capable of giving.

"It doesn't matter," she replies softly, shaking her head as she takes the broken crown from him. She looks down at it for a moment before reaching back to set it on the desk, and then looks up at him and smiles.

"Why don't you and Blaine come over to the apartment in a little bit?" he suggests quietly, taking her hands in his and running his thumbs over her knuckles. "We can have a late dinner." He pauses. "Or an early breakfast."

She grins and nods. "Okay."

They spend another few minutes pulling themselves together, her snatching her panties off the floor and slipping them back on as he fixes his pants and tucks his shirt back in. She turns to grab the broken pieces of her crown from his desk and follows him to the door.

He opens it cautiously and checks to make sure the hall is empty before turning towards her.

"I'll see you later," he murmurs before touching a soft kiss to her lips. A beat later his arms slide around her waist, almost of their own free will, and he pulls her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Love you," he whispers against her skin and hears her take a breath, her hands rising to grip his arms.

"Thank you," she whispers back and he drops another kiss to the top of her head.

A few minutes later she finds Blaine in the otherwise empty parking lot, leaning against the front of his car with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on the ground. He looks up at the crunch of her shoes on the pavement and she can see his smile in the glow of the street lamps.

"Hey," she says as she approaches, smiling irresistibly at the sight of him.

"Hey," he replies, his arms falling to his sides as he straightens. "Everything okay?"

She nods, fiddling with the broken crown she still holds in her hands as she steps up to him.

"What happened?" he asks, taking the pieces from her.

"Stepped on it on accident," she explains, her eyes lingering on his hands before rising to his face.

He reaches up to tuck an errant section of hair behind her ear and though she knows he wonders how she stepped on her crown and how her hair got messed up, to his credit he doesn't ask.

She leans into him, wrapping her arms around his middle as she rests her head on his chest, and his lips touch against the top of her head as he clasps his hands at the small of her back.

She closes her eyes a moment, feeling exactly the same in Blaine's arms as she did in Will's, and wonders if she's falling back into those old patterns, wonders if she's starting to think she _needs_ a man in her life again. Or men, in this case.

She sighs, pressing herself to Blaine, and one hand rises to her back, rubbing lightly.

"What do you want to do now?" he asks softly.

_Want_ , she thinks. She _wants_ to be with them, but it's not a need that defines who she is. It's a thought that makes her smile.

"Will asked us to come over in a little bit."

A contented hum slips through his lips and she can feel the vibration of it in his chest.

"Sounds good to me."

Her smile widens and she tightens her arms around his waist, content to stand here with him just a little while longer.  



End file.
